All of the World
by Satsuriku No Tenshi
Summary: Adopted. During the turmoil times of WWII, the paths of two people from opposing sides were irreversibly crossed. A ruthless lieutenant of the Japanese Army met a prodigy of the Chinese Communist Party. Despite their differences, love blossomed... SxS
1. The Church

**AN: **All of the World belongs to Rosabell, who kindly let me adopt the story. The original can be found in her profile and there will not be major changes in the 17 chapters that I will be re-uploading. I will try my best to deliver high quality writing. Please be patient with my updates since I have lots on my plate.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Card Captor Sakura or the first part of All of the World.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Silence hung heavily in the interior of the car, although the engines muttered noisily. It was a grim silence, that of repressed fear. Kinomoto sat to the left with her arms folded across her chest, exuding a feeling of doom. Her lips were stretched in a thin line, almost white with rage, and her eyes seemed to glow with a feral yellow—a sharp contrast to their normal dark emerald.

Gears shuddering, the car screeched to a halt. She tugged at the door and pushed abruptly, stepping out before the car fully stopped. With one motion she pulled out her gun, cocked it, and fired. All around, the Chinese screamed, covering their heads as if that would shield them from the bullets.

She would like to shoot every one of them at the moment, but there were only so many bullets available, and their main targets were the running Communist fiends. The men who rode in the car with her and from the cars behind her quickly exited the cars. They assembled around her, taking their positions.

"Come out come out, Mr. Li." Kinomoto smirked, her fair features distorting into something terrible to look at. "You have nowhere to hide. I promise, if you come with us nicely, we'll leave the rest of your pathetic kind in this building alone. Otherwise," She tilted her head to the sergeant next to her, who waved at his men, "We will blast this entire building into the rubble that it is."

The church was completely empty, which was unusual, for in such times when unrest coiled the air and every coming day brought news of loss and despair, most people tend to turn to the only thing they still had faith in. The Christians in this land were few, but those that followed the faith attend mass diligently, and often, on days like today, several could be found, praying to whatever higher force there was for salvation. The fact that no one was here boded well. Briefly, Li wondered where the priest was, or minister, or whatever handled this particular building for there did not seem to be any sign of life in the empty hall.

"That bitch." He whispered, tearing a piece of his cuff off. He turned to his wounded comrade. "Here, let me look at that."

"Get off, you!" His comrade, Wang, scowled at him. "It's nothing!"

"You're bleeding like hell, you dumbass!" Li spat back. "Now cooperate or else I'll have to cut this damn thing off!"

"I'll count to three, Mr. Li," Kinomoto called from outside. It was such a nice day, she reflected. She was eager, actually, to see dust in the air and blood on the ground, but the Chinese had such an abominable sense of honor. She was willing to bet these communist rats would surrender just to save their poor, pitiful civilian-fellows. "If you do not come out by then," She turned and smiled. The rocket was ready. "This building will be the new test subject."

"Shit!" Feng hissed, turning to the two. "They have a rocket!"

Li cursed as well.

"We'll never make it out in time!"

"One!" Kinomoto's voice echoed outside.

"Here, give me a hand," Li ordered, and Feng lifted Wang's wounded arm. Wang bit his lip, his forehead dotted with sweat, at the pain jarring his arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" Feng asked as Li grabbed his gun.

"It's called decoy. You go take him back to headquarters while I distract them."

"What, are you fucking kidding me? They'll kill you!"

"Two!"

"Yeah, well, no reason for you to go down with me."

"But sir!"

"God damn it, you son of a bitch, take Wang and _go!_" And with that, Li burst out from the side.

"_Shit!_" Feng hissed, but he pulled at Wang, who gasped in agony. "Hurry up! Damn it!"

Li saw the rocket. It was easy to spot, and of portable size. The men were actually still assembling it, so when Kinomoto shouted "Three!", they did not fire it. He cocked his gun and shot six times in quick succession. He was fast enough that the Jap barely had time to realize where the sound was coming from before he took out the two men assembling the rocket, two men flanking Kinomoto, another random soldier—who cared who they were, a dead Jap was a good Jap—and Kinomoto's hat. Unfortunately he only ruined her hat, apparently missing her head. He ducked back against the wall as the rain of bullets fired past where he had been. They might react slow but the retaliation came with interest.

_Fucking Japanese._ He thought with hatred, though he did not allow himself to dwell on it. He was cornered. He could hear them bursting into the church from the front entrance, which meant he could not go back inside to make sure that Feng and Wang made it out with the documents. He could only hope they did. Well, they better. Else he would kick their asses.

He quickly ran his options through his head. The church was on a block, with a high wall encircling the sides and the back separating it from other houses. There was no real way for him to scale the walls—they were all too high and steep. By this time, he imagined, the Japanese soldiers would have had the place surrounded. He was only kept safe, for the moment, because of the strange shape of the wall, which made it difficult for the Japanese to shoot him, but made it easy for him to snipe them. The odds, though, were not in his favor. He ducked out, shot again, bringing down three men, before ducking back again. A bullet whizzed by his ear—a very close call, but not one he was stranger to.

He looked up. Soldiers had a tendency to never look above their heads, something the Chinese militia took advantage of. There was a ledge, sure enough, but he could not see what was above it. Sensing that they thought he was giving, he darted out and fired a few more shots, just to keep them back and earn himself some extra precious seconds. He got one in the head, with some satisfaction—the said soldier instantly collapsed, blood exploding from his head like a fountain. A dead Jap was a good Jap.

Kinomoto swore, eyes blazing. She aimed her gun, but the Li scoundrel had gone out of range yet again. Oh she had heard stories of this rascal alright, it was said that he had the eyes of a hawk and his shot was as true as the Chinese were filth. His earlier bullet had nearly taken her head off—she supposed she only had the gods to thank for that.

"I want his head!" She cried, her wrath unfolding like a tidal wave. "I want him—I want him screaming!"

"Hai!" The men cried, hurrying to carry out her orders.

He could scale the wall to the ledge, Li decided, as he looked up. He could scale the distance to the ledge, whatever it led to. He just hoped it was not a window, if it was the people inside could see his silhouette and all hell would break loose. Well, he was probably going to die anyway, so what did he have to lose? He jumped and climbed up before coming face to face with a statue of an angel.

"Fucking whites," He exclaimed, because he had been startled. He thought that the statue was another one of those soldiers. "Crazy bastards!"

He glanced up. There was another ledge, a smaller one, on top, upon which sat a statue of yet another angel. He could get up there too. Wasting no time, he climbed, swinging his body over. He sensed movement below. The Japanese were checking his hideout, now that he stopped shooting. He was losing time. He glanced up again. Window.

_Crap._ He cursed mentally. He was stuck here. They did not have a good shot at him from below, but if they do decide to release that rocket, he had no chance.

Wait—the rocket.

_Idiots._ Li thought with some relish when he looked over to note that the ignorant soldiers had left the rocket completely unattended. And their cars, too! What luck—this bunch was not that smart after all. He could see the soldiers through the glass—they were hoping he was still in there. Well, their downfall.

With a jump, Li landed on the ground and rolled to relieve the shock of the impact on his body. He darted to the rocket. It was already assembled nicely for him. Smirking, he flicked the switch, pulled the lever, and then darted to the car as the rocket sailed through the air, hissing as it went. The keys were still in ignition, just waiting for him to turn them. He jumped into the vehicle, not bothering to close the doors. As the explosion sounded behind him, he slammed his feet on the gas pedal. With a screech, the tires spun with enough speed to make dust collect around the vehicle before speeding down the road. Behind him, the church burst into flames and crumbled into debris.

About ten minutes later, a dust-covered Kinomoto rose from the rubble with the help of her men. Her nose was broken and her uniform was torn and bloody. Blind rage fought to expel from her chest, but she swallowed it—like a proper Japanese woman, not like those whiny Chinese whores who thought people actually felt sorry for them. One of the men offered to patch her nose. She allowed this without a comment, and it was done promptly. Once her nose was properly realigned, she waved at the sergeant.

"Have some of your men stationed here." She said. If that Li bastard thought he was going to get away with this, he had another thing coming. "The Communist Party never learns—teach them the consequences of their rebellion. Until nightfall, I want every of these Chinese rats within seeing-distance from this church shot down. Report to me when this is done."

She walked calmly to the cars. Her expression did not change when it was obvious her own car was missing. Instead, she slid into the seat of another car and drove off—followed by the echoed screams of young Chinese couples, groans of elderly Chinese men, and gurgling of young Chinese infants as blood began pooling the streets.

_Yoshi . . ._

The Chinese were only good for shooting at.


	2. Plans for China

**Chapter Two**

Li had originally intended to abandon the car, but the Communists were low on good supplies such as these. So when he saw that no one was following him, he decided to risk remaining in the car for a while longer. After a few miles of break-neck driving, he stopped the car in a semi obscured spot. Upon perceiving that no one was following him, Li opened the trunk to look for supplies.

There were guns, many of them, stashed neatly in piles—at least they used to be. After being tossed around in the trunk, anything not in a box was left in a mess. He picked five good ones that were easy to carry, a few packs of bullets, and a box full of grenades. Stepping back, he glanced down, noting the tire tracks. The Japanese were probably only lingering to see where he would lead them. Driving all the way to the base was too risky. The car was good, but not worth the lives of his comrades.

He slipped into the trees, fading into the background. Years of practice had enabled him to be absolutely invisible once within the forests. It was a useful skill—especially when one fight for the Communist Party. He moved quickly, leaving no trail, looking back once in a while to make sure he was not being followed.

He travelled non-stop for three hours, leaving occasional false trails for the Japanese to follow. He only slowed down when the base loomed into view. He was quickly seen, and his fellow men hurried over to him to help with his load.

"Were you followed?" asked a squad leader.

Li shook his head. They did not ask if he was hurt—they knew that if he was, he would seek help himself.

"Have they come back?" He looked around for his comrades.

"Who?"

"Old Feng and Wang."

Looks of dismay answered him.

"We separated," Li explained in a hurry. "Wang was shot. I don't know if they made it out, I had gone out to distract the Japs." While he didn't exactly stop the Japanese from entering the church, he did buy his comrades some time. The rocket was fired until later so he at least achieved one of his goals.

"Do you have the documents?"

"Of course I don't have the documents!" Li snapped. "I was distracting the Japs!"

A more elderly leader, Shen, who had been listening since the beginning, sighed.

"Two men down." He muttered to himself. "And no progress."

Li tugged at his scalp in distress. If only he was more competent. Why was he always powerless? If only . . .

"Come on, kid." said a comrade. "Let's get some food in ye."

He followed without a word, absorbed in his thoughts.

But hours later, Feng and Wang did show up. Wang looked pale and close to shock, but both were very much alive. And they had the documents.

Li allowed himself a sigh of relief. His diversion worked after all. All the work were not in vain.

"Heaven decided to give us a slight reprieve!" Shen exclaimed. "You boys sure have style!"

"Style?" Feng laughed, as Wang was taken by the doctor to have his wound treated. "You want style? Young Li here sent a fucking rocket at the Japs and stole their car in one go. Like, fifty of them must have died back there. Now that's style."

"So that's where you got the guns from."

"Nice going, kid." Shen grinned at Li. "You come up with new stunts every time."

Li shrugged. He had to. It was a matter of survival.

"Well, boys, it's been good. We'll take those documents and see what we can make out of it." Shen patted Feng on the back. "Go get some food."

"Yes sir!"

Li had been halfway through his meal, so he and Feng headed back to the barracks. Feng was exhausted and hungry, and so was Li—both wanted nothing more than some food then a nice long nap. Often, rest could mean death, especially with the Japanese still within their borders. All had vowed, never to rest, until they expel the invaders from their country. This time, however, Li allowed himself to relax. He could afford to rest, for a little while at least. He was just so tired.

It was not hard for Li Syaoran to hate the Japanese. When he was twelve years old, the Japanese murdered his father by gutting him with a hook in front of the horrified villagers. He had held back his screaming mother along with his older sisters. A demonstration, the Japanese said; an example to those who do not pledge faith to the powerful Emperor.

The misery of the Chinese knew no bounds. Helpless, they could only watch as the innocent man succumbed. So much for claiming the proud line of great dynasties. Five thousand years, of being the center of the world, the envy of all men, the greatest of all races and empires, to be reduced to this! The twentieth century was wretched indeed.

Without his father, the family suffered. His ailing mother grew ill but must labor to provide for the young. His sisters did what they could, but though older, they were but women. In a society such as this, women had little power. Eventually, his mother grew frail and became unable to work. In desperation, they went to the Japanese with a far-fetched hope that perhaps some compassion could be found. Without pity, the Japanese turned them away.

Did they think medicines grow on trees? Well they do, the men laughed, but not the trees of China. Their wonderful Japan bore the peaches of immortality, but here in the Han soil everything was dirt, dirt, _dirt._

"Please give us these peaches of immortality! Our mother is dying!" They had begged but the Japanese just laughed.

"Stupid Chinese peasants do not deserve the power of true Japanese medicine." Was the response they had received.

Never mind that almost everything the Japanese knew and had—their culture, their dress, their script, their philosophy, was borne from China.

Li's oldest was shot, not a year later, by the same group of imperial soldiers who had killed their father. When his second sister was about to be raped by a Japanese commander, and his oldest sister had tried to protect her. His second sister was raped anyway, and the Japanese, still lustful, went after the rest of the girls. In despair and shame, his sister dove into the river and drowned. A water death was better than living with the humiliation. Because of the Japanese, Li was left all alone in the world.

Every time he heard the word "Japanese", saw the Japanese uniforms or the trucks and cars, he saw his father's anguished face, his mother's still, sickly features upon her deathbed, and the empty hut after his sisters had gone away and never returned—the neighboring elder holding his hand to break the news to him that all was lost, all was lost, all was lost to the damn Jap fiends. Jap fiends, they called them. Nothing was more hateful. Nothing sparked fury more than to be abused by outsiders.

It was easy, then, to join the Communist Party, to learn to shoot, to fight, to read and write, with companions, comrades, who have suffered the same, if not worse. He beheld strong women who had been raped themselves and endured—if only to slit the throats of the men who violated them. Men who lost families, who had families to lose; grim elders who cared for their men; wide-eyed youngsters who struggled to be brave in a cold, uncaring world.

He looked at the Japanese faces as they marched or drove past and saw only blank masks hiding demons within. The women, too, were whores, all of them. They sleep with all the men and with each other, even. If they could sleep with dogs, they might. They were inhuman. They were animals, every single one of them, and their blood was like poison, only good when exposed.

A dead Jap is a good Jap.

Five hours later, Li woke up from a deep sleep. He was so exhausted that he did not even have nightmares. Upon waking, he dutifully reported to his superiors. There was work to be done, and he was anxious to do it, as soon as he was given the command.

"Syaoran," said Shen, who had welcomed him back earlier that day, "You are up. That is good."

"What's going on?"

"Those documents," Shen pointed at the cabin where the lights were still on, "those documents you three retrieved, were a detailed blueprint of a laboratory facility."

"What laboratory facility?" Li asked. "Biological weapons?"

"Very likely."

Li swore. It did not look good. Biological weapons were dangerous. The Chinese did not have the skills or the resources to deal with an outbreak. With such dense population, the contamination would spread quickly. Hundreds, no thousands could die, if they did not stop the Japanese.

"What should I do sir?"

"Before the party can do anything we must first learn more." Shen replied. "Time is of essence but we cannot rush into things. We will have to utilize your Japanese skills, Li Syaoran."

Li was fluent in Japanese—an advantage the party made constant use of. He learned it well because he hated it, and knew it was a dangerous weapon against the speakers. There were others who also were fluent in Japanese, but none of them were able to hide their hate as well as Li.

When Li was pretending to be Japanese, he acted Japanese, and said everything the Japanese loved to say: that their Emperor must live long and their country would become the greatest nation in the world; that the Chinese were nothing but vermin; that everything Japanese was the best in the world. He said all of those with as much feeling and passion as any real Japanese soldier. Then he would turn on them and shoots their brains out without them even realizing. This heightened acting skill, as well as keen sense of knowing what the other side, was thinking was something the party truly valued. Li hated the work itself, but he loved the results, and did it with gusto.

"What should I do sir?" He repeated.

"You will pose as a half Japanese merchant." Shen instructed. "The party will give you the means to maintain that act. You are a half Japanese merchant—your father was Japanese and your mother was Chinese. Your father left China shortly to join the army, leaving you and your mother behind. Your mother was killed—according to you, by the Communist Party."

Li nodded, though he was incredibly displeased. He knew all the comrades of the party—none of them would do such a thing, not now, and not before—but appearances must be maintained. "Yes. I loathe the Communist Party. What of my supposed father?"

"Your father was also killed by the Communist Party. Your name is Sato Masato, or Zuoteng. You wish to do what you could to help the imperials. But because the Communist Party was always close by, your hands are tied, so to speak."

"How would I infiltrate them then?"

"Lieutenant Kinomoto had plans to move to Ningbo. While there you can offer your services."

Li frowned. This really was not much for him to work with. "How would I get away with getting in touch with her?"

"You do so at night."

Li frowned even more. "What service should I offer?"

"They have shipments." Shen replied. "Our spies inform us that there are shipments directing toward Kinomoto for a while. They may continue so."

"And I know about the shipments . . . how?"

"You don't." Shen replied simply. "But imagine your position. How would you go about supporting the Japanese?"

Li frowned. He would work out the details later. "Well, I would never expect it to be easy at the start." He replied, unhappy. "Ningbo? When do I set out?"

"Tomorrow morning." Shen clapped his hand on the youth's shoulder. "We'll be there with you. But we're counting on you. If the Japanese—"

"I know." Li nodded. If the Japanese succeed in releasing the biological weapon, or whichever it was, hundreds of people could die. He would not let that happen to his fellow Chinese. "I will succeed, sir."

Shen smiled sadly. Li Syaoran was a good kid. There was a high chance he would not survive this, but then, for others, the odds were even worse. He had no choice. The lives of many hung in balance. Only Li could hope to pull it off.

"May the heavens help you," he said.


	3. Plans for Japan

**AN:** The actual Chinese spelling of Syaoran's name is Xiaolang but I am too lazy to go and change it. Let's just pretend that Syaoran is the correct spelling. Since I need to reread and edit everything, my updates take time. Two chapters a day is the best I can do with exams coming up. But don't worry, I already have the Chapter 18 planned out and most of the story finalized. Just be patient a while longer.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

At the base, Kinomoto stepped off from the car and headed inside, her walk brisk and her head held high despite the broken nose. The men walked carefully behind her, keeping silent. They knew she was angry, with them as well as with herself.

Her day improved considerably, when she found, to her pleasant surprise, that General Kinomoto Touya was present at the base.

"Onii-chan!" She cried, instantly dropping her cold facade. This was her beloved brother; there was no need for a facade. They were family, bound by blood.

Touya paused in mid-stride and turned. He was tall, towering over Sakura. His normally expressionless eyes held worry as he took in the injuries on his sister. Standing side by side, the siblings shared almost no resemblance. Touya got his strong features from their father while Sakura took after their delicate mother.

"Ah, Sakura-chan." He greeted, a bit more neutrally. "What happened to you? You are hurt."

"It's nothing." Her mood instantly darkening again, she muttered, "It's that Chinese rat, Li Syaoran."

"Li Syaoran?" The elder Kinomoto blinked. "I have heard of the name. He has been aggravating the officials quite a bit. He did this to you?"

"And he won't get away with it." The younger Kinomoto declared vehemently. "I will skin him alive!"

"Now, don't let some Chinese punk get you so worked up." The brother gestured. "Come, change out of that uniform and go see the doctor. You've had a long day."

"Indeed." His sister huffed, but she complied. By the time she rejoined her brother, she had showed and changed into a traditional Japanese kimono. Her brother, also traditionally clad, was sitting a table, knees folded under him. She followed his example, and poured some tea. After some small talk, the young woman described what had happened earlier.

"They have the documents." She said grimly. "I have failed."

"All is not lost." Her brother comforted her. "The rebels have no clue what those are for. They may guess, but they do not know. Nor do they know the location of what the document represents."

"But with the plans they have yet another clue we do not wish them to have." She replied angrily. Her failure was unacceptable. She not only lost but lost to a Chinese brat. "And they will send members, of course, to investigate further."

"Then weed them out and get rid of them. Timing, of course, is always the key. Trust your instincts."

She smiled at her brother. "You always know what to say, Onii-chan."

"You are a silly, silly girl." He replied fondly. "Now drink your tea. You deserve a rest and some time to contemplate on how to execute your mission. When do you travel to Ningbo?"

"In a week." She said, with an ugly scowl marring her lovely features. "Why in that flea-infested town, I would never know. But I will not question orders." She hurriedly added, "I just dislike that place."

"You dislike all of China." Her brother replied knowingly. "But keep in mind, the great Empire of Japan will enrich the soils here with honest, Japanese spirit. With Japanese hands, these lands will flourish. It is only the Chinese filth that spoils these places."

"Hmph!" His sister made no reply. No matter how much the land might flourish in the future, it was nothing compared to their great homeland.

The siblings then talked of other things. Food was laid out, and conversation died down in favor of it.

Kinomoto Sakura deserved her position. She was beautiful and she knew it. To her, beauty was a weapon, and she often used it to her advantage. Men were infatuated with her, and gave her whatever she desired. Yet, perhaps more, she knew how to command. She could perceive motives; her senses were keen and sharp. She knew what to look for in a loyal servant, or in a potential traitor. It was why she was elevated to her position. Women of Japan were not often lieutenants.

Kinomoto Touya, as well, was an incredible man. He was twenty-seven, seven years his sister's senior. He was known, in the army, to be very loving of his sister. As a general, he could give his sister whatever she wanted—which made it incredible indeed, that his sister would choose to endure the hardships of the military as opposed to the luxuries of home. Kinomoto Sakura underwent all the training a soldier would require—slept on the same hard bunks, ate the same bland meals. When neither Kinomotos complained, the respect from their peers was fixed. The two Kinomotos were truly loyal subjects of the great Emperor of Japan.

How easy it was to be loyal to the Emperor! Back in the day, it was the Emperor who decided to adopt the ways of the West. This decision had saved Japan from the cruel fate that awaited its Asian neighbors. Even the great Qing Dynasty fell to the smoke of Western culture. And now all of Asia was ready for Japan to lead them to a new era of prosperity and wealth. They would convert all of these sad, sad people into true Japanese subjects.

Yet, for all their good intentions, these Koreans, Mongolians, and Chinese were being stubbornly thick. They refused to unlearn their native languages. How could they prefer those barbaric languages to the refined language of Japanese? And those peasants, persistently rebelling, always so reluctant to share their lodging, food, and earnings. Baka! How could they not see what Japan was doing it for them? If not for Japan, they would not even be able to harvest their wretched grains and wheat. They owed their very breath in their pathetic bodies to the Emperor of Japan! The ingrates! Ingrates must be destroyed. Just like those Communist rebels. Once every pathetic fool, who dared to disobey the much more evolved and developed Japanese, has been eliminated, they could start building their empire. They would conquer the Pacific!

"I shall miss you when you leave, Sakura-chan." The general said fondly. "When you go to Ningbo, I shall be unable to come with you. Mind you, stay safe. Those Communist rebels will seek every chance they get to harm you."

"That is nothing new." His sister replied.

"Iie, but this time, I will not be there to protect you."

Though not exasperated, she still retorted, "I do not need your constant protection. I am a full-grown woman. I can take care of myself."

"Hai." The general smiled. "But I shall never rest easy until I see you well, right in front of me. I am your onii-san, after all."

She took her brother's hand. "I will be careful." She promised. "And you be careful as well, Onii-chan. I will miss you dearly—nothing cheers me up as you do after a long day. And in that flea-infested town, I imagine there will be many of those."

He laughed heartily. "Ah, Sakura-san, you are the hikari—hurry and establish the base and come home for a while. Our old father waits in Tomoeda still. He inquires after you."

"One thing I do wish could change," she muttered nostalgically, "is to be able to talk to Otou-san directly, instead of always through you. How am I to receive any news of him in Ningbo?"

"I shall send messengers." The general promised. "I will not forget you, Sakura."

After the dishes were cleared away, the two rose from the table. They headed out the sliding door, and the general took his sister by the hand.

"What else has happened so far? Prior to today." He gave a slight tug. "Come, let us walk through the gardens."

The gardens were beautiful, with bridges stretched over a central koi pond. Japanese maples and peonies were arranged artfully to be displayed to their best advantage. Unlike the rest of the province, this land was luxurious and relaxing. The brother and sister strolled slowly through the paths. It was getting dark and chilly, but there was light still, to illuminate the calm visage.

The lieutenant began to describe everything to her brother since his last visit. Lots had occurred, and the general nodded his approval. The more Chinese rebels killed, the better. During times of war, it was always better to be safe than sorry. Naturally, they could not let children grow to be adults out for vengeance! The more children of rebels killed, the better. And of course, as time was of essence, it was possible the victims they killed were not actual rebels—but there was no time to find out for sure. Certainly, the deaths of Chinese people, with their inferior blood, were no great loss to the world, much to less Japan.

"It is good that you were able to retrieve Ito Daichi from the Communist rebels. With him your stay at Ningbo should be a lot shorter, and I can rest a lot easier." Kinomoto Touya remarked.

"Is he really that good?" His sister asked derisively.

"He was the one who helped bomb Ningbo in the first place, with the fleas."

"The ones carrying the bubonic plague?"

"Hai."

"Ah." The lieutenant smirked, her green eyes glittering. "This should be interesting then."

Her brother laughed.

"My one wish is to see the day Japan emerges victorious," said the lieutenant. "It does not matter much, how long I stay in Ningbo; if I could see Japan conquer this lands, I am content. The next best thing is to know, of course, that I contributed to helping us become one step closer to that day; then I have died with purpose!"

"It will happen," replied the general, with no trace of doubt. "You shall see that day."

"But I won't, necessarily."

"Iie." Her brother rested a hand on her shoulder. "You will. You will marry a fine Japanese man. You will have fine Japanese children. You will see them grow old in the Great Japan, the New Japan, and have children of their own. We will give our future line a paradise, a world in which they can be proud of who they are and what they will become. Japan will be great and you shall be great along with it."

Optimistic words, but his sister turned to him, smiling, all the same.

"I shall be glad to return to Tomoeda after Ningbo," she told to her brother. "I must visit Tomoyo-chan—have you heard from Oba-san?"

"She is doing well," he replied.

His sister lamented a little. "One of the things I had regretted—I wasn't able to take care of Tomoyo-chan. A curse, it is, for her to get sick at such a time."

"The doctors have hope."

"That is good then." Though she was not totally reassured, she could not afford to be distracted on her mission.

"Hn." Touya steered her back towards the building. "Let us go back. The night grows cold."

"I am hardly like my namesake, Onii-chan."

"Iie, but we are all human, and even I feel the chill. Come."

The two loyal servants of Japan went inside.


	4. The Halfblood Merchant

**Chapter Four**

Li loathed masquerading as a half-Japanese merchant. He seethed at the thought of having to act as one of those demons. Staying close to them for any period of time was even worse. Despite his profound hate, his expression showed nothing. He wore the mask of a half-Japanese flawlessly. There was a reason he was good at what he did.

The only good thing, he grudgingly admit, was that he was cleaner and better dressed than he had ever been in his life. Dressed in rich traditional robes, he was the epitome of wealth. This, of course, was all superficial. Just tools he used to get closer to his goal. The stage was set—the only thing missing was the players.

Nevertheless, he was incredibly troubled about this mission. What they wanted him to do was impossible. In fact, most of the missions and tasks the party has given him were usually impossible, but he completed them anyways. This one had to top them all, however, in sheer lunacy.

How exactly was he supposed to convince the deadly Kinomoto Sakura that he was trustworthy? Hell, even if he were trustworthy, how was he supposed to convince her of that? She was anything but stupid. The fact that he had just arrived in Ningbo would work against him. Timing, unfortunately, was everything, and this was ill-timing.

He had to find some way to convince her that he really hated the Chinese, for good reason.

"You are asking me to take a big risk." He told with Shen, chasing after the man while his comrades carried logs for firewood and loot from enemy ranks. He felt ridiculous, clad as he was while everyone else was in rags. The darkness hardly made up for how well-dressed he was.

Li knew that their current plan had too many holes but Shen was just being stubborn. They had went over this numerous times—why couldn't Shen see his point? "Look, the Japs may or may not sympathize, but they would never believe you would beat one of your own to a pulp. So beat me to a pulp."

"And have you completely incapacitated for weeks?" Shen waved his hand dismissively. "Not gonna happen, kid."

"Oh, come on!" Li snapped. This was the best plan they could have under the circumstances. "What else are you going to have me do?"

"There's got to be a more subtle way of doing this!"

"We have to be willing to go all the way." Li smacked a tree in frustration. "This is all the way. You grab a few of your men over, claim I'm some blood-traitor and give me a good thrashing. I scream and curse at you, the Japs storm in on the scene and you guys run for your lives."

"And if they kill us?" Shen looked unconvinced.

"Get a guard to warn you. He can watch. When the Japs come on the scene, you leave me bloody and dying then run away."

"And if they decide to shoot you too?"

Li rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. "Look, there's no better way to convince her that I am not on your side. We have to establish first that I'm not on your side before we establish that I'm on hers. It can take thirty years to build up that trust with the so called 'subtle' way. China would be taken over by then!"

Shen glared at him. Li glared back. If it was a battle of wills then he would win—only if the mission was that easy.

"I don't like it. You're depending on Japanese sympathy." Shen frown but did not dismiss the idea like before.

"If they don't have any, I don't stand a chance either way."

"I still don't like it."

"You have me firmly in their faith; any flesh wound is fair trade."

"What if they're not flesh wounds?"

"Well what do you want me to do?" Li exploded. "This was hardly risk-free in the first place! I'm asking for your help to give us even the _slightest_chance of it working. Of course, people might die. Of course, you might accidentally beat me to death. Yes, it all might be for nothing in the end. But if you want rich rewards, you better be willing to give up big sacrifices and this is one of them. They're not gonna buy my story. They'll find my arrival, the date, the timing, all too coincidental for their liking, and it truly isn't something we can afford."

Silence descended after Li stopped to catch his breath. The men stared at each other. In the end, Shen dropped the eye contact and sighed heavily.

†††††††††††††

"Kami-sama." Kinomoto groaned. "How freaking hard is it to dig a hole in the ground?"

"Digging is not the hard part. The foundations are not stable, however," said the engineer.

She sighed again. "Well, figure something out. I want the foundations laid by tonight."

Before the engineer could reply, a chorus of shouts sounded in the distant. Kinomoto turned to the noise. She knew there was training going on, but the sounds this time were not orderly. It sounded like a mob, actually.

"What's going on over there?" She wondered out loud, heading over to the source of the commotion. The engineers glanced at each other before following her.

The courtyard was in an uproar, though apparently it was the trainer demonstrating some move with a wooden pole meant to serve as a bayonet. Kinomoto watched with approval at the fine technique. When there was a cheer, she clapped briskly as well. As expected of a fine Japanese soldier. The Japanese Army was strong and the soldiers loyal. They were the favored children of Kami, unlike those Chinese vermin.

"We need to figure out where all those Chinese bandits are." She muttered to herself. "If only, hm."

"Lieutenant," A soldier walked up to her, not in this shift of training, and saluted. "Patrol has reported unrest at a local shop. Some communist soldiers were beating this merchant, and fled when our troops arrived."

"And this concerns me _how?_" Kinomoto inquired flatly. Her mood was bad and made even worse by the delays of the project.

"He is half Japanese," said the soldier. "Name's Sato Masato."

"Those bloody Communist Chinamen." Kinomoto felt her rage peak at this news. "They dare assault—where is he now?"

"At the hospital." Said the soldier. "I was ordered to report this to you instantly."

"Very good." Kinomoto thought for a moment. "A merchant, you say?"

"Hai."

"He could be useful." She noted before address the men. "Carry on with things here. I am heading over to the hospital to look at this Sato Masato."

†††††††††††††

"I feel like a complete motherfucking son of a bitch." Wang muttered, spitting a mouthful of phlegm at the ground. He hissed when he aggravated the bruise on his stomach. "Man, Syaoran pack a mean punch."

Feng carefully wrapped a bandage over the bullet graze on his shoulder. "Syaoran certainly made it easier." He winced. "For a moment there I actually thought he was one of those fucking assholes."

"You think we went too far?"

"Had to make it look real." Feng had his doubts but he wisely kept them to himself.

"But we bashed his skull in!"

"He tried to bash ours." Feng reminded him. "Ain't called 苦肉计*if you don't self-inflict actual wounds to trick your enemy."

"He fell unconscious though. What if he gets stupid because of that?"

"I don't know," sighed Feng. The future was unsure but he trust Li. The kid was strong.

Wang spat another mouthful of phlegm. "Look over there. That's the Kinomoto woman. She's in that jeep."

"They're heading to the hospital? _Already?"_

"Got it hand it to Syaoran. Smart as hell."

"What if she's going to kill him?"

"Would hardly commission the execution in person."

The two men fell silent.

"Well, Li Syaoran, I sure as hell hope you know what the fuck you're doing." Wang mumbled.

†††††††††††††

Sato Masato looked genuinely injured alright. There did not seem to be a single inch of him that was not bruised or bleeding. She did not really listen to the doctor's nervous reciting of his various injuries, instead looking upon his features. Unfortunately, his face was swollen and covered with cuts and bruises, making it hard to perceive what he looked like.

"How long before he wakes?" She asked.

"A couple of hours, at least," the doctor replied in Chinese.

"Ring me when he awakens." The lieutenant instructed before turning towards the door. "I will leave him for now."

"Yes lieutenant."

Sakura sniffed a little at that, much preferring the brisk, clarity of the Japanese. She was not just a little irked that one of their own was in the hands of these less than flawless Chinese healers. Still, a Chinese healer is better than no healer at all.

Several hours later, Li stared, his eyes somewhat intense and glassy, at the woman who had, several times, nearly ended his life. He somehow managed not to spit at her. It was nothing short of a miracle.

"Sato-san," said the lieutenant. "I am Lt. Kinomoto Sakura. You are at the Ningbo Hospital. I heard you had quite a round. How are you feeling?"

Li looked at the badge, because he knew that was where Sato would look. "I am well." He said quietly. "Ariga—thank you." He changed his words at the last minute.

He saw the lieutenant smile. "There is nothing wrong with using Japanese here." Her voice was unusually kind. "You are safe here. You are with your brothers and sisters. They cannot punish you for being who you are."

_Oh hell._Li realized. Who could have thought—Kinomoto Sakura had a soft spot for anything Japanese. Even half-Japanese would do. What luck! He managed to muster a smile, though it looked like a grimace.

"Arigatou gozaimasu." He settled, not wanting to start anything complicated.

"Can you tell me why they attacked you?" Lieutenant Kinomoto inquired.

Li tried to adjust his position, only for pain to shoot through his body. _Ow…_they really were not merciful. "Vengeance."

Kinomoto frowned. "For what?"

"They think I killed one of their squad leaders." The script was all planned in advance.

"Did you?" The lieutenant asked with a hint of curiousity.

"I don't know." Li replied. "He was rushing at me. I sidestepped and he fell off. . ."

Kinomoto raised an eyebrow. "Fell off what?"

It was not hard, actually, to fake feeling a bit groggy. His injuries were paining him and his eyelids felt like lead. "Fell…" Li blinked tiredly. "Fell off."

He had discussed the story already, but it was a bit hard to remember, beaten as he was. Getting away with nothing worse than a concussion is pretty good in his book. Thankfully, Kinomoto seemed content to leave that detail alone.

"Why was he rushing at you?"

"Recognized me." Li closed his eyes. He was tired but he must stay conscious enough to fool her.

"Ah." Kinomoto frowned. Silence descended for a while. He used the moment to collect his thoughts. Then, "How about you help us help you get back at them?"

Li did not need to fake his enthusiasm either—even if he was concentrating on a different reason. His eyes shot open and seemed, to Kinomoto, to fill with an inner glow. She smiled with approval. No matter that he was half-Japanese.

"Rest now." She patted his hand before Li could say anything. "We shall talk when you have fully recovered. And you will recover, I will see to it."

As she departed, Li wondered, through closed eyelids, at the irony. How could someone who had so ruthlessly slaughtered civilians, tortured comrades, and caused such devastation, seem so loving, so kind and compassionate to her own.

_What utter rot._ Li thought wearily before sleep claimed him.

†††††††††††††

Sato ended up being a very handsome young man, much to Kinomoto's chagrin. Once he recovered sufficiently to head back to his shop, every time the two encountered each other, she found herself distracted by his features. He was tall, amiable enough, and exerted such a calm aura that she found it hard to maintain the appropriate aloofness she usually conducted herself with.

Their first dealings after the first meeting at the hospital were strictly business. Kinomoto wanted to know if Sato objected at all to the imperial base using his shop as a means of transporting some goods. Sato was only too delighted to help.

A few weeks later, Sato actually invited her over to his home for tea. This was done with all the respect she was due, of course, especially as a pureblood Japanese. If she had paused to think for a moment, she would have realized that Sato says exactly what she expected him to say. He was too perfect. But she had not even considered it at all.

Kinomoto did not suspect at all.

The merchant's home was very clean and tidy, and glaringly empty. He had servants who did work for him, but they were full Chinese and seemed to regard their work with distinct displeasure. Nevertheless, it was evident that Sato kept a good eye on them, for they served both their master and the lieutenant with the proper efficiency as they should.

"You live alone, Sato-san?"

"Hai."

Kinomoto smiled. "It must be lonely here."

"It is well enough." Sato replied easily.

The lieutenant paused for a moment. "Have you no family at all?"

This seemed to bother Sato a little. Before she could wonder why, Sato replied, "I did."

"Oh? What happened?"

"They were killed." Sato hesitated. _By your kind._ "By the Communists."

"They do seem to single you out, Sato-san." Kinomoto stated.

_Single me out. _Li allowed himself to sigh so that he would not be overly anxious. Murderous thoughts swarmed in his head. He could kill her right now. He could slip something into her cup, right this second. He would succeed, too, in poisoning her. _That bitch is right here._Right in front of him. Completely unsuspecting. Easy to kill.

He took another deep breath.

"My father was a very capable man." He tried to look nostalgic. It was not hard as he pictured his real father in his head. "He had originally remained in China because my mother had to take care of my grandmother, who was frail and may not withstand the journey to Japan. When he heard news of Japan's rise to power, he left my mother, my sisters, and I to contribute to the Japanese Imperial Army. Originally all was well; we intended to wait for the Japanese to reach our village, perhaps his squad, even. But the Communists reached us first."

Kinomoto was listening intently, her eyes keen and sharp the way they always were when she was concentrating. _Green, like jade. Except jade is a warm stone, filled with life._Syaoran pulled his face to the side harshly to keep his mind on track. Later when he was alone, he would analyze he reaction . . . maybe.

"Ugh. They knew. They knew who my father was. Their spies—they beat my mother and my sisters and set fire to our property. Hmph." For a good measure, he blinked back tears, because what he said next was true, no matter the other lies. "I was a coward. The only one to survive." Then, he glared at the lieutenant with real feeling, using words that could refer to two very different things. "But I will have my revenge. This they know. They've regretted letting me get away ever since, and they'll keep on regretting." Then, abruptly, he swallowed his rage. "Gomen nasai, Lieutenant. I did not mean to bore you with such tales."

"Iie." Kinomoto said firmly, but her voice unusually warm. "I am glad to learn more about you, Sato-san. And I do not believe you to be a coward. A coward would have stayed on the run. But you are fighting back."

A genuine smile. She almost looked beautiful. _The bitch._

Li swallowed. "I think of it more as attempts to repent. It is the best I can do."

"And that is all the gods ask." She replied and sipped her tea. Her actions held a natural grace. "It strikes me, then, that you have a good foundation for the business you run, given the circumstances."

"The Communists, fortunately, do not run China." Li smiled wryly, his acting skills on full display. "My business prospered whenever they were not around, and I did what I can to thwart the Communists, though whenever they have identified me before, I had been forced to relocate."

"You did not rely on the Imperial Army to defend you?" Kinomoto asked, concerned.

"I was down South." Li replied. "I had no Imperial Army to defend me. Not to mention," He added, for good measure, "I would not wish to weaken the army's forces for my sake. If it is the gods' will that I die so that I am less of a burden to my father's country, then I shall submit. I can do no less."

"You speak with an honesty becoming of our people." The lieutenant said with approval. "Most say it to please, but rarely do they mean it."

_Oh, I mean it alright._Li thought. _I mean every word of what I say._But Kinomoto does not have to know what exactly his words meant. She was only too willing to believe he was supporting her vile Japanese 'empire'.

"You are serving your country well." Kinomoto went on. "Let no one doubt that you are Japanese at heart, Sato-san. And indeed, it is no burden to care for one of our own, especially not with the services you provide." She clasped her hands in salute. "You are an honorable man."

Li did not know what to say to that at first, but he clasped his hands together as well after a moment. "Iie. I merely strive to do what is right."

She smiled with more approval.

_Who is this hussy?_ Li thought, incensed, as she looked down at her tea again. He drank some of his to calm himself, but the hot liquid seemed to fuel the rage building in his stomach.

He kept it repressed under an icy blanket of nonchalance, but when the lieutenant left and he saw her to the street where a car took her out of sight, he could not help but feel a sense of wonder when he reflected on their entire conversation that night. Somehow, despite all that he feared, he had Kinomoto Sakura completely wrapped around his finger.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> It seemed that more of my writing style is slipping through as the characters continue to develop. For now, I hesitate to change too much of the original. Can't wait to an actual chapter instead of editing.

*Ku rou ji or Body trick—using self injury to win someone's confidence


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